


The Misunderstanding of Dean Winchester

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Hidden Feelings, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, Sam is a Little Shit, confused cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5287388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean misinterprets Cas' question</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Misunderstanding of Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> What am I doing?  
> I don't even watch this show anymore  
> Ugh, this idea came to me yesterday at work.  
> I don't know  
> Ignore me

The question catches Dean off guard. He chokes on his beer, coughing harshly, spraying the table. Sam gives him a brief look of disgust, moving the book he had been looking over, but Dean barely spares him a glance, his attention on Cas.

“C-care to repeat that?”

“Do you consider me attractive?” Cas repeats without looking up from the magazine he’s been reading for the past half an hour.

Dean puts his bottle down, glancing towards Sam helplessly, but his brother raises his hands, clearly telling Dean this is his question to answer, and he silently curses Sam before returning his attention to Cas.

“Well, you see…” Dean coughs again, picking up his beer bottle, draining it. He puts it back on the table, running a hand through his hair, clearing his throat. “I mean…” He sighs, frustrated, and says, exasperated, “I don’t know, Cas! I mean, you’re not bad looking. Anyone would be lucky to have you. I mean, you’ve got those killer blue eyes and while that suit doesn’t exactly help you, I’ve seen you with your shirt off and you don’t have a terrible body. Some might say it’s nice. Clearly, clearly not me or anything, but someone. You know? And I guess the sex hair doesn’t exactly hurt matters…”

“Dean,” Sam says softly, but he’s on a roll and doesn’t quite hear his brother.

“And some chicks dig that deep, gravelly voice thing. And it doesn’t hurt that you can probably lift a car over your head.”

“Dean…”

“And sometimes you smell nice, which is always a plus, because nobody wants to date someone who smells like death…”

“Dean.”

“What?” he snaps, rounding on his brother.

“He asked if you consider him  _active_ ,” Sam replies fighting a smile and failing (Dean doubts he’s trying hard enough).

“What?” Dean repeats, his voice much weaker this time, his neck and face burning hot.

“He said active.”

“I-I know,” Dean exclaims jumping to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over. He turns to face Cas, ignoring the head tilt, confused puppy look, and says, “Of course you are. What the hell kind of question is that?!”

“Dean I never meant…” Cas trails off when Sam snorts.

“Shut up, Sam.”

Dean snatches his jacket off the back of his chair, storming out the door, slamming it behind him, but not before he hears Cas ask, “I don’t understand, have I offended him?”

“Nah, he’ll be fine.”


End file.
